


Who You Are

by hegemony



Category: CW Network RPF
Genre: Other, Trans Female Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-03
Updated: 2011-08-03
Packaged: 2017-10-22 04:06:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/233574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hegemony/pseuds/hegemony
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's a game of chance she's been afraid to play with Jared but now, she has no other choice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Who You Are

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Livejournal's Blindfold_spn for the prompt: 'Jensen doesn't know how to tell her new boyfriend that she's pre-op. Jared finds out anyway.'
> 
> Originally posted on 20th-Jul-2011, Gently Revised.

The bow of her lips twitches, and she's fumbling with the end of her sweater. She loves Jared, she's realized it like the exquisite little revelation love's meant to be. But there's one little hurdle, before they can make it work. One tiny, big gamble. One...thing between them.

"Jenny? Jenny?" Jared's eyebrows are furrowed, his eyes filling with fear and anxiety and god, he must think she's breaking up with him. "Jensen, what's wrong?"

Her name- her new, old, new name-- has got her grasping at straws. It's always been the one token she's held onto, even when she was the old Jensen, but to hear that name now simply reminds her of the bow lips and gangly arms of a boy who felt out of place in Dallas. It rolls around his tongue like the it's the best word in the world and her heart stops, the cold dread of it all. He loves her back, even through chaste date after chaste date and her running away from arousal, cowering if he touches her in just the right place, the kinds of places her old body would have wanted him to touch. Her eyes lower, but she owes him this, she owes him an explanation.

"I'm just thinking of who I was a long time ago, is all," Jensen shrugs it off, back to her normally sunny disposition. "I was different, before I met you."

Her tits feel heavy, the newness of them still foreign as she hunches over to stick her hands in the back pockets of her jeans. Jared doesn't look quite so convinced, but he thankfully stays quiet.

Here's the thing: they don't...do sex. They aren't intimate. She shirks away from him all the time and it kills her, searing pain to think of him walking away from what they have because she doesn't think he'll be able to take the residuals Jensen has still on her body. And then it all comes crashing down on a blithe summer's afternoon.

On a walk through the park, they both get soaked, trapped in a heat-breaking thunderstorm. Her place is closer, but running home is still a series of unfortunate events, torrential downpour and city streets, puddles skimmed by taxicabs. Her dress, summery-pretty, is soaked through the bone, and even though her...is still hidden between the folds she knows the underwear she's wearing is pretty fucking cold with rain, too. Her long hair is in wet choppy shards around her face, much like Jared's, and she shakes her head, softly, when he offers to embrace her and warm her up.

"I think you've still got some stuff over here," She says, softly. "let me change and I'll get it for you."

And then it happens, she can tell he thinks nothing of walking into her bedroom, surveying the territory. She's naked in the mirror, her cock hanging limp between her legs, legs she'd worked so hard for in the first few months of her transition all that time ago. She's soft and smooth everywhere, shapely curves and the slide of her breasts but between her legs is the final piece of the old Jensen, the only thing she hasn't brought herself to modify.

She sees him staring at her, at it in the mirror, and hangs her head.

"This what you've been hiding from me, Jenny?" he asks. He sounds so unsure and she feels like her heart is breaking. She feels like a fraud, and tries to prepare herself. Her mouth settles into a thin, emotionless line.

"Yes."

Jared's turning away in what has to be disgust. He's peeling off his wet shirt and the one he has underneath.

"Are you afraid of what I'd do if I found out?" he asks. Even damp, he looks amazing, the cut of his chest and the jut of his abs mouth-watering, and she sizes him up. "Are you that embarrassed of who you are?"

Her brows furrow, and she drops her hand to cover up her crotch. "I'm not embarrassed at all. But I know deep down you thought you were getting a nice, normal ladyfriend who'd been born a girl. I'm a realist. I've heard the horror stories."

Jared takes long strides up to her in the mirror, slides his fingers into the places Jensen always has wanted him to touch, and smiles. "Baby, you think this can dissuade me from loving you?"

"I...I just wanted to be perfect for you, is all. I can't afford the surgery and I don't really know if I want it and--"

He stops her by kissing her, clutching her close to him and letting her know how much her body turns him on by rutting into her backside through his jeans. He traces a light fingertip up the arch of her limp cock and she shivers with the electricity all over her body.

"Trust me, Jenny," his voice sounds so rough, so loving, "This is something I can definitely work with. I love you, I don't care what kind of body parts I have to use to express it."

It's a goofy way of resolving the tension in the situation, but Jensen smiles at Jared's words anyway. There's the glint of understanding instead of fear or confusion or pity in his eyes, and she feels herself getting hard over it. He sees her reaction, tracing a light finger down it.

"May I?" he asks. She doesn't know what he wants but she figures he's asking about how comfortable she feels with him playing with her like this.

"When you ask so pretty..." she trails off, and that's all the consent she thinks either of them need. She fills his hand, growing harder and harder still, and the heat of him so close drives her crazy.

"Would you prefer I ask dirtier?" he grins, his free hand curling around her waist, bringing her close so he can whisper darkly in her ear, toppy bastard that he can be. "You gonna fuck me with this cock, Jensen? Gonna let me fuck myself on it? Get down on my knees and suck it, gag myself on it, show you how much I like it the way I like the rest of you? Gonna let me take a good girl like you up my ass? Do you think you'd like that?"

Her eyelashes flutter, and she knows she should be uncomfortable, this is incredibly unladylike, but she's so into it, so ready for it, straining and heavy in his hand as he pumps away at her leisurely.

"Jay," she whines, high in her throat. "Jay, please."

"What do you say, 'ladyfriend'? Gonna let me come on that cock?"

"Only if you promise you'd say the same thing about my pussy, if I had one," she shrugs, trying to act cavalier.

His accent slips, like an azalea that's springing out in between cracks of concrete, "Darlin, if you still want one by the time I'm done with this, I'll talk dirty about it all the time."

And then he's on his knees in front of her, looping her hands into his hair, giving little kitten licks to the underside of her cock. She moans, her hips working without her permission, pressing the head into his willing mouth. He wraps his lips around her, and sucks down hard, the sensation almost too intense for her to continue.

"I want you down my throat, Jenny," Jared says, all beckoning intonation and hot puffs of air right where Jensen's never realized she's needed them the most. "Come on, be mean."

So she is, sliding in as far as she can go, watching him choke and gag on the one thing she often wishes she could get rid of forever. The feeling of expansion and contraction around her is overwhelming, and she lets Jared free for a second as she watches his eyes water and spit creep out of his mouth. She does it again, goes as deep as she can and stays there.

"Fuck, baby," Jensen groans, reaching down and tracing the grotesque bulge of Jared's throat, staring at her own blown eyes in the mirror. "Jay."

Jared pulls off, eyes sliding shut, rubbing his lips against her cock and all she wants is to come all over him for the first time in forever. His eyes are closed, but he doesn't look like he's imagining anybody else. The line of her cock brushes against his jaw and he moans like he's being bestowed good favor from a goddess.

He uses the flat of his tongue to slide up through her pubic hair, up to her stomach. His hands raise to her breasts, his fingers tracing her scars. She whimpers, he treats her with such reverence when she was worried he'd do nothing but the opposite.

He looks up at Jensen's body with the kind of awe Jensen used to dream about, the line of his cock hard underneath his jeans. This scenario is too uncanny to be true, but god, she wants it and she knows just how ready he it is for it. "Fuck me?"

She smiles. A crooked, lopsided grin. "No, baby. Not right now. Finish sucking me off?"

"You gonna come in my face?" he asks, hopefully.

"It's not that much like a porno," She says, bashfully. "Haven't been able to ejaculate for years. But...I can come, baby, I can come all over you if you want."

His eyes light up with how hot she sounds. "You coming dry sounds pretty goddamn hot."

"I bet it does," she says, softly, as she pulls his head back on her dick, back down his throat, rutting against him. She smiles, a flirty little line, and eventually gives into clenching, coming, fucking his throat. "You want me to take care of that little problem you have down there, champ?"

He grins, rubbing up against her ankle. He's wet, jeans soaked through with come, beaming up at her. "That's all you, baby. That's how much I want you."

She feels right like this, her Adonis of a man at her feet, wet and ready to be fucked. And the thought of bending him over, pressing her breasts and long hair against his back, and sliding deep right into him is more than enough to make her wonder why she was ever worried about his reaction in the first place.

Tomorrow night, she's gonna make him worship her until he loses his mind.


End file.
